In Oculo Tempestis
by Danascully2
Summary: Trinity POV. What happened between the time of the Keymaker's explanation until Neo, Morpheus, and the others reentered the Matrix at midnight. A strong "R" for sexuality.


TITLE: In Oculo Tempestis

AUTHOR: Danascully

SUMMARY: Trinity POV. What happened between the time of the Keymaker's explanation of the mission, until Morpheus, Neo, and the others reenter the Matrix just before midnight. A strong R for sexuality.

SPOILERS: Little ones for "Reloaded" - nothing drastic.

CATEGORY: Romance/Drama

RATING: R

DISCLAIMER: Trinity, Neo, Morpheus, Link, the Neb, and the world of the Matrix sure as hell aren't mine... I wish I were that brilliant, but alas, not yet. The Wachowski brothers are amazing. THANK YOU, Larry and Andy!!

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Neo and Trinity made it pretty clear in the movie that they don't get enough time together, alone. ("These two've got things to do!") And I also really wish that we'd been able to see more of what they were thinking and how they were feeling before that fateful night. Et voila. ;) 

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IN OCULO TEMPESTIS

No one had ever taught me how to pray. My parents in the Matrix were lapsed Catholics, and although their residual guilt drove them (and me) back into church for Easter and Christmas, we never actually talked about God. Which is, of course, ironic, given the name I later took for myself online. Online, where I could be a god. Where the fact that I was fourteen and still wearing a training bra, the fact that I wore braces and spoke with a lisp... where those facts weren't real. _What is real? _Where they didn't define me, didn't confine me. Where all that mattered was the speed of my mind and my fingers.

I had never even liked the idea of God. 

__

Why not?

Because I don't like the idea that I'm not in control of my life.

Yes, Neo - I too know exactly what you mean. Besides, I had solid proof that there wasn't some all-powerful benevolent presence sitting up above the black sky and looking out for me. The Matrix and the Real World were alike in one way: you could depend on no-one's strength but your own. Not even Neo's - it had been all too easy for the Merovingian to separate us, leaving Morpheus and I alone on that freeway. Too easy. There is no God. You have to save yourself.

No, I didn't know how to pray. But as I felt my consciousness return to my body - cold and cramped from lying motionless for so long - as I heard the metallic rasp of my spike being removed, I found myself wishing that I did. That my "parents" had made me go to CCD, even just once. What was going to happen tonight... it felt so far beyond my control. 

Link was staring down at me without smiling, and I could see his tenseness in the small wrinkles that curled around his dark eyes. Usually his face was so expressive - like Tank's had been. 

"When are you going back in?" he asked, loud enough for the others to hear.

I sat up slowly and swung my legs over the side of the chair, watched Morpheus gently release Neo from the grip of the jack. It always struck me as odd to see his lethal hands moving so carefully, but nearly everyone had some little thing that they tried to do to make life easier for Neo. Link always made sure he got more goop than the rest of us. The Councilors, eager as they were for his insights to supplement their planning, always made him return to me once Zion's lights began winking out like millions of dying fireflies. The people of the city left him food and homemade blankets outside our room. Even Lock showed him a sort of deferential respect that he certainly never showed anyone else. And Morpheus always slid the spike out of his head plug with soft hands, without a sound. We did what we could for Neo in the real world, because he was our guardian in the Matrix.

That role was part of the Neb's mission, now. No captain plugged a crew member in without letting us know first. And then Link would watch the code even more alertly than usual, eyes flicking from monitor to monitor, waiting for signs of an agent. They always came, eventually. And if a hardline was cut, or an escape route blocked, Link would punch the ship's intercom.

__

"Neo -" 

One word in that urgent tone was all it took for him to stop whatever he was doing - sleeping, rerouting wires, eating breakfast, welding pipes, making love to me - and he would race to the Core, to the waiting embrace of his chair, to the rescue. And yes... despite having been a soldier for longer than he, I was often jealous. It was irrational - I knew that - but also profoundly human. So in a way, I welcomed it.

"Three hours," Morpheus replied, pulling me out of my reverie. I let my feet touch down, feeling the cold of the titanium floor soak through my thin shoes, and looked at Neo, still sitting, his elbows resting on the threadbare knees of his pants. His eyes were focused on Morpheus, though, and once I followed his gaze, I could see why.

I'd never seen Morpheus more... alive. The lines of his forehead were taut, like Link's, but not with anxiety. With something else - a sort of predatory excitement that made his eyes glitter like mica chips. 

"Link, I need you to keep a tight watch on the squiddie activity around here," he continued. "Our next broadcast must not be compromised. And Neo." A tight smile stretched his lips, and the flare of fanatic exultation that moved like a shockwave across his face sent goosebumps cascading down my arms. "You should get some rest."

He looked as though he wanted to say more, but finally clapped one hand on Neo's shoulder for a brief moment and turned his attention to the bank of monitors. Neo stood up without looking at me, and began walking quickly out of the Core, in the direction of our room. My jaw muscles tightened involuntarily. Why wouldn't he tell me what was wrong, dammit? I knew he was afraid, and I didn't blame him for it. Why wouldn't he tell me?

I could feel Link's stare on the side of my face, and had to resist the sudden, angry urge to snarl, "Mind your own business!" You're too tense, Trinity, I told myself, taking a deep breath. You need to relax. For him. 

I walked briskly out of the Core, but once they could no longer see me, I ran. I wasn't ashamed. He needed me. My cramped legs protested, but I refused to listen. Three hours. What could I possibly do? This was his fight, and his alone. None of us - not me, not even Morpheus - could give him any sort of advice. But when my view of the twisting passage ahead began to get blurry, I shook my head fiercely and willed away the tears. _Not what he needs... _For a moment, that chink in my resolve sent a wave of disgust spiraling through my body. Was I getting too soft? Was this... this connection with Neo making me weak? _Not weak,_ I answered the familiar doubts silently. _More human. _Yes, that was true - before him I had been too hard. Brittle. Waiting to be shattered.

After a few more bends in the corridor, I slowed to a halt in front of my door. Our door. I stood there, looking at the red wheel that would release the bolt and waiting for my breathing to slow. I had to be the strong one, now. Under no circumstances could I betray my growing unease, the disquiet that had begun with Morpheus' eyes and that was spreading through my blood like slow cocaine.

"You're just being paranoid, Trinity," I muttered. But as I squared my shoulders and took hold of the wheel, watching the muscles around my arm plugs bunch up as it slowly began to move, I found myself again wishing that I knew how to pray. For strength.

The room was twilit - Neo had turned the lights to their lowest setting. I closed the door behind me with a hollow clunk that echoed between the grate of the floor and the pipes that criscrossed the ceiling. His shadowy form was lying prone on our makeshift double cot, one arm flung over his eyes.

"Hey," I called softly, leaning back against the door as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"Hey," he replied, voice monotone. He didn't move. I managed to quash a sharp surge of irritation before it reached my face. Had to be patient. 

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly, holding myself back from going to him until he really began to talk. I don't know whether it was the tone of my voice, or my distance, or something else... but he finally moved, rolling onto his left side to face me, and propping his head up with one hand.

"I-" he sighed, and the frustration was deafening. "I still don't know what to do. I just wish I knew what I'm supposed to do." The corners of his mouth turned up slightly in a parody of a grin. "I sound like a broken record."

I heard myself echo his sigh before I could try to stifle it. How long had it been since that morning in the mess when he'd asked the same question? Thirty-six hours, maybe forty at most? It felt like years.

"You're the One, Neo," I said softly, putting as much reassurance into my voice as I possibly could. "You'll know what to do when you get there."

"The Source." No one else would have heard the slight hitch in his voice, but I did. And finally, I let myself sit down next to him on the edge of the cot, run my fingers through the short dark hair that fell over his forehead. What could I say? What could I possibly say that would help him? I had no better idea of what was at the Source than he did.

"You don't have to be afraid," I murmured, shifting so that I could wrap one arm around him and massage the back of his neck, working the tenseness out of the muscles there. "This is what you were meant to do. It will be all right." But even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew they were inane. And once more, I wanted to pray - to pray that they would not sound empty to him.

He craned his neck to look up at me, and I stilled my fingers in his hair. "Do you really believe that?"

"The Prophecy?" I replied, genuinely surprised. "Of course I do." My voice softened as I saw the agonized confusion in his frown. "Why this sudden doubt? Don't you believe that you're the One?"

He curled his body around me, then, his stomach against my lower back, and pressed his forehead into my thigh. My stomach clenched at his vulnerability, and I felt so damn lost in that moment... the tears almost came again. Now I wanted to believe in God, just so I could scream at Him! _What am I supposed to do?! Show me!_

"When I'm inside," he said, his muffled voice dispelling my rage as quickly as it had come, "I do believe it, most of the time. I'm Superman in there, and I know it." He laughed sharply, and I moved my hand back to his scalp, rubbing in tiny circles. "But when I get back here, sometimes I start to doubt. I mean, even Superman had a weakness."

I had to grin slightly at his analogy. "So you're afraid that there's Kryptonite waiting for you at the Source?" I asked, tugging gently at a few strands of his wavy hair so he'd know I was joking.

He didn't take it as a joke, though. His head jerked up and he rolled away, until he was lying flat on his back and staring intently at the ceiling. And this time, his face was a mask of agony - lips drawn tightly together, nose flared, eyebrows bent sharply inwards. What in hell was going on?

The woman in me instinctively stretched out next to him, put her hands on both sides of his face, turned it towards her. And that's when I suddenly realized what I had to do. My purpose. The reason I was here, with him, in this room, at this moment. He was doubting, and that doubt could be fatal. Not only to him, but to all of us. I had to make him be certain. I had to.

"Neo," I whispered, my face hovering close above his. "I know you're the One. I know that whatever you are called upon to do tonight, you'll be able to do it. I know it. I know it because I love you." And then I let myself smile a small, mysterious smile, and I brushed my lips against his so very lightly. "I love you... and I'm going to prove it."

I saw his eyes widen just before I leaned in again to nip playfully at one corner of his mouth, then the other. His hands settled onto my hips as I took one sensitive earlobe into my mouth and sucked gently, then flicked it with my tongue. His hips twitched forward against me, and I smiled again.

"That's it," I murmured against the other ear, letting my warm breath tickle the sensitive skin. He hummed deep in his throat, and I pressed myself tightly against him. "I want you to forget everything, Neo," I continued, moving my lips down his jawbone and onto the soft skin of his neck. "Forget everything except that you're a man, and I'm a woman, and I love you."

He groaned then, softly, and I felt the vibration against my lips. Slowly, I moved above him, until all of my weight was resting on top of him and all of my body was in contact with his. His wide, dark eyes watched me, but he still he said nothing. I leaned forward to kiss him - deeply, hungrily - while I slid one hand down to the hem of his shirt, then under it to massage the soft skin of his stomach. The firm muscles beneath twitched, then relaxed. 

I broke the kiss to whisper, "Good, Neo - relax," and allowed the free fingers of my other hand to trace one of his flat nipples through the ragged cotton shirt. He sucked in a deep, gasping breath as my knuckles grazed it lightly.

"Trinity..."

Maybe it was hearing my name that undid me. Maybe it was the sacred tone in which he said it - the way only he could. Maybe it was the fact that, despite the confidence I had exuded, I was afraid he wouldn't return from tonight's mission alive.

__

The Source. Where the path of the One ends.

As a child, my family had loved to play Jenga on rainy weekend afternoons. I could remember - distinctly, like a home video - one game that had ended by me pulling out a block near the bottom and sending the entire tower crashing onto my seven-year-old head. I had howled in pain, and not without cause; the blocks had left a large lump just above my bangs.

Now I knew how the tower had felt. All of my resolve to be strong and in control and patient just simply crumbled when Neo gasped out my name. And suddenly I was kissing him again, only harder, desperately, and my hands were clutching his face, and I was pressing against him so tightly that the atoms of our clothing must have been mingling.

He kissed me back for a long moment, until abruptly he rolled us both to one side so that I was beneath him. And then he stopped.

"Trinity," he panted, those dark eyes flicking back and forth between mine. "God. What is it?"

I stared up at him for a moment, panicked. You can't tell him you're afraid! You can't! "I just... I really need you, Neo," I stuttered, ashamed of my broken voice.

For the first time since we'd woken up in my bed spooned together in Zion, he smiled. "I need you, too." His callused palm gently cupped my face. "And I love you. And I want you. But let's go slowly. There's time."

__

There's time.

"Okay," I whispered, not knowing what else to say. Had I failed? Could he tell? But as he bent his head towards mine and placed a gentle kiss on my chin, I realized that what I had hoped to do for him was still happening. He was relaxed. He wasn't thinking about tonight. He was confident and in control. And he was tugging at the hem of my shirt.

"Hey. Can I take this off?" 

I smiled too, then - a full, brilliant smile in response to his suddenly mischievous grin - and gave my consent by arching my back and raising my arms so he could slide the garment over my head.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, drawing an imaginary line from my clavicle, between my breasts, and down to the waistline of my pants, with one index finger. I shivered.

"Now you," I murmured back, and he obligingly allowed me to wrestle his shirt over his head. When I fell back onto the cot, he stayed with me, and the feeling of his naked skin pressing into mine was exquisite.

"You're so soft," he said, and the wonder in his voice made me pull his head down for a kiss. His lips moved gently against mine until finally his tongue flicked out, teasing first my upper lip, then the bottom. He breathed in my quiet gasp and drew back slightly, only to place delicate, sucking kisses along my collarbone. I let my head fall back and gave in to the tiny blossoms of fire that pooled beneath my skin wherever his mouth touched.

But just as I was relaxing into his kisses, I felt him shift his weight so he was lying on top of me more fully, propped up by his left arm. And then his right index finger was once again tracing a path along my skin, this time in decreasing circles around one of my breasts. Smaller and smaller and smaller... but just as he was about to reach the peak, he switched to the other. Over, and over. And over.

Soon, my breath was coming in short pants, and the ache was unbearable. "Please, Neo!" I gasped, watching through hazy eyes as he slowly obliged and bent his head. One of my hands found his dark hair, and I threaded my fingers through it only to clench them helplessly as his tongue flicked against one nipple while his fingers lightly pinched the other. A half-stifled moan spilled out of my throat, and my back arched at the sensations.

"I love the way you touch me," I managed to stammer, and he stopped long enough to whisper back,

"I've barely started." 

All too soon, his lips left my breasts... and I was about to voice a husky protest, when I realized that they were slowly kissing a path down my stomach. And with that epiphany, the hot-coals heat between my legs became nearly unbearable. His hands replaced his mouth, kneading my skin slowly and gently, until his kisses reached my pants.

He unbuckled them and slid them off with much less control than he had removed my shirt. But he spent years sliding my underwear down my legs until finally drawing them over my feet and tossing them onto the cold floor. When his eyes met mine again, they were all pupil, and hungry. I loved them. Loved him.

"Yours, too," I whispered harshly, my throat rough. He stripped his pants off hurridly, never taking his eyes away from mine. And then he picked up where he had left off, hands still massaging my breasts, mouth descending slowly below my navel, until he reached my hips. They were already moving slowly, subconsciously, in a futile effort to ease the burning pressure between my legs. He stilled them with his hands, looked up into my heavy eyes again.

"I love you, Trinity." And then I was lost, awash in heat and wetness, pressure and softness, as he made love to me with tongue and fingers and lips. Lightning raged behind my eyes, and my head thrashed back and forth on the lumpy pillow, out of control. He held my lower body motionless with his strong arms, teasing me relentlessly, letting me have only what he was willing to give. My breaths came in gasps, then sobs. And deep inside, in the very center of my body, a storm was building and building and building until nothing could contain it - not me, not this room, not the Neb.

I had just enough lucidity left to know that I didn't want it to be like this.

"Neo!" I cried out, voice cracking. "Please... inside..."

He understood me perfectly, of course, and groaned as I reached down with a trembling hand to guide him inside me. "So good," he murmured. "So good." And then he was moving, slowly at first but gradually picking up speed, his forehead pressed against mine. And the storm was now a hurricane, swirling and swirling, so much pressure...

"Close-" I managed to gasp. He shifted his weight, brought one hand to where our bodies were joined. Gently, he circled a finger around that most sensitive place, tearing a low moan from my throat. And then suddenly he pressed down, firmly, as his hips thrust against mine... and I was crashing over the edge, caught up in the glorious ecstasy of the winds, the lightning. I could feel him pouring into me, life and light and purpose. My body shook like a leaf in an autumn thundershower, and I cried out without shame. This was real, this was love. Human love, passionate love. Not a programmed imitation, not a sample. In that one brief moment of clarity as my body succumbed to the explosion within, I actually felt sorry for Persephone.

I didn't remember falling asleep, but when I woke, spooned tightly against Neo's chest, the digital clock read 11:03pm. As much as I wanted to let him rest, I knew he had to get up, to prepare. I shifted in his arms so that I could wake him with a kiss. The softness of his lips always surprised me.

"Neo."

His eyes opened immediately, and they were alert. Perhaps one day, we would have lazy mornings in Zion. Perhaps. But for now, we slept as soldiers. 

"It's just past eleven."

"All right," he replied, and his voice was steady. I kissed him again, briefly.

"I'm going to the lav."

I used the toilet and washed my face, all the while running through the mental calming exercises that were my preparation for entering the Matrix. Balanced. I had to be balanced and attentive, ready for anything. Ready to fight off anything so that Neo could open that door within the five-minute window. Anything. 

I returned to our room, calm and resolute. The waiting was almost over. But as I cranked open the door, I knew immediately that the peace our lovemaking had given him had dissipated. Neo was sitting stiffly on the cot, hands on his knees, and his face was curiously blank. I knew that look - it came after one of his nightmares, had come after we made love in Zion. But if he hadn't told me about the dreams then, I was sure he wouldn't now. So I did the only thing I could do - I sat down next to him and reassured him that above all, above every other commitment in this world, I was bound to him.

"Neo, I know something's wrong. You don't have to tell me. I just want you to know that I'm here." And I put my hand over his, gently intertwining our fingers.

"I want to ask you to do something," he said, not quite meeting my eyes, "but I don't know how."

Hadn't I already silently promised him anything? "I promise you, if I can, I will."

He took a deep breath. "What if I asked you to stay out of this, no matter what. To stay out of the Matrix."

I felt my eyes widen slightly. Stay out? Stay OUT? I had to be there, to protect him! "Why?" I asked, half-pleading, confusion saturating my voice.

He put his other hand over mine, his palm hot and slick with sweat. "Please." He did look at me, then, and his gaze was... haunted. Tortured. And I realized that here was the answer to my questions about the dreams, the ones he would never talk about. They were about me, and about tonight. Nearly everyone had some little thing that they tried to do to make life easier for Neo, and right now, this was what I could do. No matter how much I hated it.

"All right."

We walked silently to the Core, where Morpheus was waiting. He turned to us with those zealous, eager eyes, and I had to tamp down a shiver.

"How we doing, Link?" he asked, voice tense with anticipation.

"Ready when you are, sir."

He nodded to us. "Then unless you two have any questions, let's go."

"Trinity isn't going, Morpheus." Neo spoke quietly, but with an authority in his voice that not even our captain could question. Morpheus looked at me curiously, and I met his gaze without blinking.

"He asked me not to."

"Very well," Morpheus replied, turning his attention back to his display. "It'll be good to have a second pair of eyes here, anyway." He lowered himself into his chair, and Neo silently did the same. I moved over to him as Link attended to Morpheus.

Neo stared up at me, and though his posture was relaxed, his face was tight. What could I say to him? I love you? I need you? He believed both already.

I leaned down and kissed him, warmly, fully, letting my lips linger against his until we were breathing each other's air. "Don't be afraid," I murmured against his mouth. And then, more gently than Morpheus ever could, I slid the spike firmly into his plug.

I turned away from Neo's inert body, moved to stand next to Link. He held a long, pearl-colored chain in one gloved hand and was eyeing it skeptically.

"Shit," he muttered. "Can't hurt." Decisively, he wrapped it around his neck and shoved the loose ends under his shirt. "It's Zee's," he said defensively, before I could ask. "She made me bring it."

I crossed my arms beneath my breasts and watched him type a few rapid-fire commands on the keyboard. "Link," I began, hesitantly, "do you know how to pray?"

He turned to look at me in surprise. "Pray?" 

"Yeah," I shot back, suddenly defensive myself. "To God."

He picked at a loose thread on one glove for a few seconds, considering. "Well," he said finally, "I think you just ask. I mean... I guess you just think about God, and ask Him for whatever you want him to do. Y'know? Like, 'Please send us mannah from heaven instead of white goop' or something like that." He chuckled nervously, and I gave him as much of a grin as I could.

"Thanks."

"Sure. And uh... I won't tell if you don't."

I actually did smile, at that. "You've got a deal."

We were both silent, then, watching the green code cascade down the screens like alien waterfalls. But in my head I kept repeating one phrase, over and over, like a mantra. 

__

If there's someone out there who's listening... please, please bring Neo back safely. Please.

__

Finis.

Feedback very welcome at: trinity@alum.dartmouth.org


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